


Brother Mine

by Narya (Narya_Flame), Narya_Flame



Series: Nárë a Lindalë [21]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Autumn, Beleriand, Brotherly Affection, First Age, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries - Bloody and Bruised, Memories, Protectiveness, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya_Flame/pseuds/Narya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya_Flame/pseuds/Narya_Flame
Summary: Celegorm is willing to go to great lengths to protect his brother.  Curufin is not best pleased by his heroics.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Curufin | Curufinwë
Series: Nárë a Lindalë [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133360
Comments: 16
Kudos: 37
Collections: Darkest Night 2020





	Brother Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunavagant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunavagant/gifts).



> Many thanks to Raiyana for beta-ing and discussing/brainstorming.

“Brother?”

Celegorm blinked – slowly. His lashes felt sticky; his mouth was furry and sour, and his head and body _ached._ He'd been back in his room for some time now, though for how long, he wasn't quite sure. Cool autumn air stirred through the scent of woodsmoke. He lifted his eyes to the window; outside, the deep red of twilight was fading into dusk. A day, then, at least. “Where's Huan?”

“Down in the kitchens. The Healers thought it best that he was not in the way.” Curufin folded his arms. “You're a bloody fool; you know that, don't you?”

“It's good to see you too, brother.” He winced. His voice was as dry as the fallen leaves that rattled along the road to the fortress. “Curvo...”

Curufin laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Keep still. I'll bring you a drink.” 

He shifted carefully against his pillows, and hissed. A few broken ribs, then, to go with the sickening headache.

His brother paused in the middle of pouring water from a pitcher, grey eyes sharp. “I told you to keep still.”

Celegorm ignored him. “How many dead?”

Curufin placed the pitcher back on the shelf and returned to the bed. “Thanks to your ridiculous exploits – none.”

“Ridiculous?” A triumphant smile tugged at his bloodied lips; the skin, still tender, stretched painfully, but the glare on his brother's face was worth it. “It worked, did it not?”

“Hush, you great dolt.” But Curufin's features softened as he held the cup to his brother's mouth.

Celegorm sipped obediently. “You're angry.”

“Of course I'm angry. I'd quite happily kill you, if you hadn't come so close to managing it yourself.” He smoothed Celegorm's hair back from his face. “Fool,” he said again for good measure.

In the hearth a log snapped, and the fire flared bright for a moment. “What would you have had me do?” Celegorm asked.

“Stand your ground and stay with the party, instead of tearing off into the night, howling like a fiend out of Angband's pits!”

“Is that what I sounded like?” He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or insulted.

“What you sounded like is not the point.” Curufin's voice was as still as cooled steel, but Celegorm could feel his mind easily enough, and sensed the clinging remnants of fear. “Why did you do it?”

“We were outnumbered. We had to split their forces, so I created a diversion.” Ignoring the pain in his ribs as he shifted, he reached out to grip Curufin's hand. “I could not risk losing you, little brother; I could not have borne it.”

“And no more could I bear to lose you.” Curufin folded their fingers together; his anger, frustration and love shot through Celegorm's mind like a braid of hot wire. “What made you think that you and Huan could take on half the troop alone?”

Celegorm did his best to look smug. “We lived.”

A reluctant laugh, half a sob, escaped his brother's throat. “You're impossible.”

“I know.”

The flames in the hearth settled into a flickering glow. His eyes drifted shut; he felt Curufin unlace their fingers, followed by a light, careful kiss on the cheek. “I'll leave you to get some rest.”

Celegorm thought of Indis, long ago in Aman when they were all much younger, washing cuts and binding heads and nursing their broken limbs. Despite the bruising and swelling, he smiled a little, though a sharp dart of sorrow followed swiftly behind.

“What is it?”

“Oh – nothing. I was remembering our Grandmother.”

He half-expected a snapped retort from Curufin, but instead felt the soft brush of fingertips against his forehead. “Then I will say the same thing to you that she would say if she were here. Please be more careful in future.”

Celegorm opened one eye and chuckled softly. “And where, brother mine, would be the fun in that?”


End file.
